Who invented these traffic jams, tell me
In the alleyways - winter,
She is hiding and waiting to see what happens.
You and I are in a metal box,
And for a long time it's not even love,
Just a couple of people who are somehow alike.

I can feel your nerves almost ringing,
The "sixth" will lose its patience and go first.
The cold wind will blow into my open window,
The wave will hiss, spoiling the song.

You will propose we should get back together,
I will stay silent, surly and timid.
It's possible that everything could have been different, if not for these terrible traffic jams.

Some people measure time in hours,
But I live from winter to winter -
You see, she and I have the same name.
I feed myself miracles,
But you understand everything -
Only three intersections…